


I found you lying in a field of grass...

by FateFeather



Series: AUs From Last Night [1]
Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Gen, Skinny!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateFeather/pseuds/FateFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...near the trail I jog on in the morning like a drunken Bambi. </p><p>Please check the notes to know what pairings or warnings may apply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I found you lying in a field of grass...

**Author's Note:**

> Modern and De-powered Universe. 
> 
> Contains Skinny!Steve and Sam in a platonic way.
> 
> Triggers (I guess?): Mentions of an asthma attack
> 
> (I set it at night, not morning. opps?)

The morning started unlike any other. The past few weeks, Steve had been trying to make himself do something more than sit around on doctor’s orders. No sports unless spectating. No games and rough-housing with his friends. Being left out drove him halfway to insanity. His persistent cough made sure he arrived there.

He was normal dammit! And he’d prove it.

Only, he couldn’t exactly win a 5K or even lift his own weight right now. So he needed to start small. There was no sense in thinking that sitting around couldn’t be turned into something positive. _‘A bare space on the floor at home would be good enough for push ups.’_ Steve decides. He straightens out his body and puts each hand parallel to each shoulder.

_‘Start down, push… Up! Okay. Good.’_

_‘Down. Ouch.’_

_‘Up? Ow.’_

_‘Well… One push up a day was better than none. Probably should have tried a warm up first.’_

So the stir crazy thing made Steve get a little frustrated and the added embarrassment of the push up failure made the guy leave the apartment. It wasn’t like he had anything else better to do when his thoughts were too scattered. His classwork on his watercolour commission could wait and his friends were all out doing their own thing. Steve needed this time to himself anyway. He was no good to anyone when he was in this little mood of his.

In his haste to be done with the inside of his lounge, and the fact that the sun had deceived him, Steve had left without his jacket, his small lifesaving inhaler as easily forgotten as his ID or his phone in the pockets. All of life’s essentials left in that unassuming beige thrift-shop deal jacket.

He didn’t live too far from a few different areas where he could stretch his legs, but Steve took the longest route and wound up at the ball fields. It was the long walk there that should have given Steve the warning. _‘Don’t do it, go back home!’_ Clearly, Steve needed to learn when he was wrong.

The thing about admitting when you are wrong is that you have to know you are wrong to begin with. At least that’s the thought that made itself known to Steve when he woke up feeling cold and with a completer stranger looming over him with a worried smile.

It comes back to him. He’d been lightly jogging along at his own pace. Ignoring people relaxed and enjoying picnics. He’d gotten to a quieter area, with more trees and a more grass than buildings. Rare as that was. Steve hadn’t stopped to enjoy the view. He’d tried to keep going.

Of course, he hadn’t stopped to assess the tell-tale signs his asthma was acting up. As he’d finally noticed he was breathing harder than normal not because of the exercise, he was already seeing spots in his vision. Steve’s hands rummaged his pant pockets, then again, and once more because he was sure he hadn’t left it. By then, too late, he was lowering himself down to his knees as he struggled not to trigger a panic attack too. He knew he wouldn’t die, but when it was this difficult to draw a breath, it was hard not to want to crawl into a corner and let panic take charge.

He must have shut his eyes, since he only remembers being woken up.

“You okay there?” The looming stranger asks, and Steve grunts a little. He should have glared at them. But it wasn’t their fault he collapsed, so he doesn’t. He looks up at them, and can’t help but notice how kind this guy appears to be.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Steve quickly lies. He knew it was irrational to. But enough people already thought nothing good about him from a glance. This helpful guy shouldn’t get to join in on surface judgements too.

“So you meant to be down there huh? Trying to sunbathe at what? Ten at night?” The person is laughing good-naturedly, and as they do, Steve can’t help but grin back. It was rare for anyone to be out this late and not be trying to roll guys like Steve.

As he stands, the blond gets a hand helping him up. The owner of it is clammy, but there’s warmth underneath the residue. “Thanks,” Steve begins. “I uh..” He ‘uh’ what? The artist huffs a bit as he tries to think up some excuse that wasn’t ‘I fell’.

“Looks like you collapsed. Has nobody tried to help you out?” Now Steve looks at this guy, he realizes how much smaller he is. God… What if someone like this had popped up and tried to hurt him? Steve stares now almost challengingly.

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t out that long.” He grits his teeth a bit, trying to look as big as this guy actually was. Being a head shorter didn’t exactly help.

“Sure. That’s why you’re covered in dew.” The guy is still smiling, a broad, toothy grin that makes Steve relax a bit. It was hard to imagine this guy would hurt anyone at all. Although he certainly looked fit enough to hold his own in a fight.

“It’s sweat.” He tries to lie, but he’s smiling too much for it to come across as truth.

“Sure. Alright man.” The man backs off, his face still looking concerned for Steve.

“Thanks though.” Steve tries. He doesn’t want this guy to feel bad for trying to help, and he didn’t want to come across as rude. “To be honest I think I should try jogging on the spot before I try to jog outside again.” It earns him that same smile as before.

“You need a running buddy?” The guy asks. Given the practical jogging suit and the sweatband on his left wrist, Steve should have assumed another jogger would be the first to find him. He must have looked like a dead body since he passed out in normal daywear. He already looked like he was a walking skeleton; passing out in a ditch must have freaked a lot of people out during the evening.

“I could use a coach.” Steve suggests. It eases the awkward silence growing between them.

“Alright well, I’m Sam.” The guy reaches under his sweatshirt, and pulls out his phone.

“Oh…” Steve digs in his empty pockets. It wasn’t like he didn’t know by now that it was back at home, probably with missed calls from his friends. Sam looks like he’s about to call 911 for a reported theft. “I didn’t bring my phone. I’ll put my number in okay?” After that, Sam relaxes.

They exchange half pieces of information. Steve introduces himself, but leaves out why he’s left home without his essentials. Afterwards, when Steve gets home to a brand new text from a brand new number, he smiles and imagines how much fun it’ll actually be with someone there to make sure he doesn’t end up sleeping in a ditch again.


End file.
